


clean cup, move down

by zombeesknees



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombeesknees/pseuds/zombeesknees
Summary: Rose falls down a rabbit hole, in a manner of speaking. | Written many moons ago on LJ.





	clean cup, move down

A beautiful day minus responsibilities plus a good book equaled a very happy Rose Tyler. She stretched her long golden legs out in the sun-dappled grass, flexing her toes with a contented sigh, nestling her head into the pillow of his balled-up jacket. There were few things better than laying under a tree on a warm sunny day with a good book on your belly and a good friend lying next to you.

Well, maybe not _just_ a good friend. 

"Doctor?" she murmured sleepily.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm going to take a nap now."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Which means I don't want to be disturbed unless it's absolutely life-or-death. _Don't_ wake me up unless the Krillitanes of Balhoon are flying over the horizon carrying gas-mask zombie children on fire. Mmmkay?"

"Mmmhmm."

There was an alien bird calling off in the distance, sweet and clear, and Rose wondered if the locals called it a Jabberwocky or something similiar...

 

\---

 

"Clean cup, move down! Clean cup, _move down!_ "

Someone was prodding her in the back, and she opened her eyes with a start of surprise. How did she get into this starched blue dress? She hadn't owned a pair of black Mary Janes since she was six—and _why_ was there a bow in her hair?

And just who in the hell was—

She stared. She stared some more. Her mouth opened into a perfect O of shock, and still she stared.

"Move it, missy, hop it to the next chair! You're holding the parade up, you're being rude, you're ruining the tea party!"

And the Doctor kept poking her arm as he jiggled in a dance of frustration, the astonishingly oversized top hat falling over his eyes, the tails of his overcoat fluttering behind him. 

"Hold it right there!" Rose said, grabbing hold of his arms. He froze, his eyes wide and glassy. "What's going on here, Doctor?"

"Doctor? I've no medical license to practice and can't practice to any degree and an apple a day keeps the physician away!" The last bit was sung, his Adam's apple bobbing comically as if he were a cartoon come to life. 

"What the—"

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!" And there was a redheaded woman in a garish crimson Victorian dress stepping out of the hedges, pointing at Rose with a huge scepter crowned in a gold heart. "She hast bovvered me! OFF WITH HER HEAD!"

Rose spun about, and suddenly there were two Mickeys striding towards her—or perhaps _waddling_ towards her would be more apt, as both were round as eggs and dressed in what looked like striped jim-jams.

"If you want to pass us," they chimed in unison, "You've got to give us the password!"

"What's the password?" the first hissed audibly to the second.

"How should I know? Nobody tells me nuffin."

"What am I doing here? This place is barking mad!" Rose cried, pushing past the arguing Mickeys and running down the first path she saw.

"No need to fear," a voice said at her right elbow. She would have sworn the accent was American; it certainly wasn't British. "Madness is a state of mind. And the states are far from united around here." And when she finally looked down, there was a cat floating beside her as she ran. A cat with a distinctly familiar face and a thousand-dollar smile.

"Captain?" she gasped, before a tree branch swung across her face. And then everything went dark.

 

\---

 

"...Rose? Rose?"

"I don't want to join your tea party… I like my head where it is, thank you," Rose heard herself mumbling as she regained consciousness. She opened her eyes and found the Doctor staring down at her with some degree of concern. He wasn't wearing a top hat, thank the Lord.

"Whassit?" she said, blinking blearily and pushing herself up on one arm. 

"You were having _some_ dream," the Doctor said, brushing her flyaway hair behind her ears, his finger brushing along the curve of her cheek. 

"Last time I read Lewis Carroll before a nap," Rose muttered to herself, tossing the book aside. 

"How's about we go in for a cuppa?"

"How's about we go for a pizza instead? I'm not really feeling like tea right now."


End file.
